


Victory

by DarkShadeless



Series: Overseer Sar [24]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: A lot of them - Freeform, Feelings, one story at a time, trying to get Master Timmns the tag he deserves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 11:00:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15023138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkShadeless/pseuds/DarkShadeless
Summary: Timmns faces the aftermath of the second battle of Odessen.





	Victory

**Author's Note:**

> In the interest of full disclosure, i might have made myself cry writing this. On public transport no less.

 

 

Vaylin’s fleet jumps into orbit and there’s no time to think or even breathe until it’s all over.

This is hardly Timmn's first rodeo, not the first time he sent students out into a war zone either, but… it's never been this close. This immediate.

At the Temple he taught his share of padawan potentials, knowing he would hand them off to Masters to finish their training in focused lessons and brave the galaxy, the Sith and everything else out there they'd meet in defence of the Republic. What might happen to them was present but distant. The only instance that came close to this scenario was the battle of Tython and he had hoped to never have to experience the like again.

He sends his students out into the night and all he can do is hope what he, what they, have taught them will be enough. He has his own part to play, his own battles to fight.

 

When they get the call that the Eternal Throne has fallen and the base breaks out in the riotous festivity only a group of individuals can manage that weren't sure they’d live to see tomorrow, Somminick retreats. He needs a moment.

He finds himself wandering the halls, his feet carrying him on well-known paths while his mind is a million lightyears away.

Their training ground is empty. At some point in the battle a fighter has crashed in it and left it in ruins.

The destruction speaks to Timmns in ways it shouldn't.

 

He isn't sure how long it takes until Sar finds him. But then again, he is rather preoccupied. The Sith drops onto the felled tree he picked for a seat and, amazingly enough, doesn't scoff at him.

After a long moment in which Timmns can feel his regard like a dragon’s breath at his back and ignores it in favor of scrolling through the preliminary casualty lists, Sar says, almost gently, “Don’t do this to yourself.”

For once it's his turn to huff out a laugh that holds no amusement at all. “And what do you suggest I do instead? Forget them?”

Isn’t that the Sith maxim? Under the stars, in their broken sanctum of learning, all Timmns can muster for that is a tired sort of envy.

“Acknowledge their death and move on. _Let them go_.”

The misappropriation of the Jedi code hits him where it hurts. But is it such a warped interpretation? Timmns is sure he could find any number of Masters that would advise him to do the very same.

Maybe Jedi and Sith aren’t so different after all.

Suddenly he’s completely exhausted. “Like you are?”

Sar is silent for a long minute. When he speaks again he’s not blustering, like Timmns half expected, or giving him a piece of advice so callous it wouldn’t suffer under an acid bath.

“Like I’m not.”

The unvarnished truth of it steals anything he might have planned to say next, to push a button, start a fight because anything has to be better than the way he feels and surely a Sith must have come here to mock him-

Timmns lets the pad sink and stares. What waits for him behind his co-instructors glowing eyes, beneath all of his anger stripped away is something he has only caught glimpses of and took for care.

It isn’t not. But it's what care _becomes_ thrown into an arena and made to watch its dependants die. Hundreds, _thousands_ go to Korriban and how many make it back out?

Too few.

There’s death on the Sith’s face and it isn’t his own but it might as well be. Going by Timmns own state that would hurt less.

He has to look away or drown in it.

The list in his hands isn’t that long. From a coldly objective point of view they did their job well. It's still long enough to cut him to the core.

“How? How do you… How?”

Because it's tempting. To let the pain melt away into the Force, let it go. There is no death. They are one with it now. It feels like a betrayal, though. It's too soon.

He will, Timmns knows. Once he’s had time to process. To keep it, to _carry that with him_ \- He can't imagine what he would become if he did.

Or maybe he can.

Sar heaves a sigh. “It's easier if you don’t know their names.”

 

 


End file.
